Not Without Regret
by EclecticTrekker
Summary: After the events of “Poisoning the Well”, Beckett can’t help but torture himself with questions and guilt. He’s lucky enough to not be truly alone.


**"Not Without Regrets"**

**Show: **Stargate Atlantis

**Genre: **Gen/Angst

**Pairing: **Shep/Teyla friendship

**Rating: **K

**Summary: **After the events of "Poisoning the Well", Beckett can't help but torture himself with questions and guilt. He's lucky enough to not be truly alone.

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing aside from my goldfish and textbooks.

**Author's Note: **I'm finally getting around to catching up on posting a bunch of fanfic from my LJ account, so some of you may have read this before...

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The pill bottle was still on the desk, tucked slightly away and out of sight behind a stack of paperwork, but he knew it was there. He hadn't slept in days, not since their last visit to the Hoffan world when he and the others had wandered through the hallways of the hospital (soon to be morgue), trying to understand just when everything had gone so terribly wrong. Losing Perna was only one drop in the bucket, and he knew that just because her death was more personal to him didn't invalidate any of the thousands who shared her fate.

Beckett sighed heavily, rubbing his palms across his eyes. Elizabeth had politely requested that he take a few days off from his regular duties to rest and recover from the incident, and he hadn't even bothered to attempt a refusal. Her voice had been laced with thinly-veiled steel, which meant she wouldn't have taken 'no' for an answer.

His eyes flicked involuntarily back to the bottle of sedatives peeking out from around a stuffed manila folder. He hadn't been able to find it within himself to take any of the medication yet. Even though he wasn't seeing to any patients, resorting to drugs to find sleep seemed like a cheat, a way to escape his thoughts and feelings. Opening the bottle was a step he wasn't yet willing to take.

Walking back home through that hospital had been like traveling through some twisted version of hell, one steeped in the stale smell of astringent and canned air and the echoes of coughs, weeping, and dying screams.

He'd stumbled out of Perna's room after she died, the hallway blurring and warping through the tears he tried to blink away. Sheppard's team followed silently, obviously unsure what to say that would be appropriate. They'd nearly reached the end of the corridor when Beckett suddenly felt a weak tug on the edge of his coat. Glancing down he saw a tiny hand curled around a fistful of his lab coat and the feverish, thin face of a young girl who couldn't have been older than five. She was lying on one of the numerous stretchers lining the hallways, looking up at him with a weak smile.

"Daddy?" she whispered, her eyes bright with delirium and confusion.

Carson froze, unsure how to respond until a tired orderly came over and pulled his coat from her grip. "It's all right, Lila. You'll see daddy again soon."

As the girl nodded, already drifting back to sleep, the doctor glanced up at Carson with an apologetic sigh. "Her family's already dead. Afraid she won't be far behind at this rate."

He headed off to the next stretcher along the hallway, thankfully saving Beckett from having to answer. He felt a hand rest lightly on his shoulder – Major Sheppard, perhaps? – and that was impetus enough to urge him into motion again. Carefully edging away from that contact, he continued down the hall and out to the gate, not bothering to see if the others were following him.

Aside from Elizabeth, Sheppard had been the first one to check in on him, dropping by the infirmary later that evening to ask if there was anything he needed. Beckett had turned down the offer, and when the major had tentatively started to apologize about what had happened to Perna, he quickly excused himself with a lie about having to finish up some lab work.

He'd been short with Sheppard, and as much as he regretted that, he hadn't been at all in the mood to talk about 'what he was feeling'. The deaths of so many innocents including Perna weren't the only things that were bothering him. The entire situation was so reminiscent of the mistakes that doctors and scientists had made throughout history, the kind of mistakes that he never believed he could be a part of. Believing in one's discoveries so fiercely that one couldn't foresee the complications was dangerous, and that kind of arrogance was something he'd always fought against in his profession.

Now, he had become part of the problem, and thousands were dead because of his discovery.

The doors to the outer infirmary hissed open, and Beckett glanced up at the computer screen. It was nearly ten o'clock at night, and he hadn't been informed of any emergency.

"Dr. Beckett?" He recognized Teyla's soft voice in the main treatment area and almost considered pretending he wasn't there before standing up from his desk with a groan.

"Teyla? Are you feeling okay, love?" he called, making his way out of his office.

She was standing by one of the beds, as peaceful and serene as she always was. Almost in spite of himself, Beckett felt a part of him loosen. Though she was just as human as the rest of the expedition, Teyla possessed a calm that was as complete as it was mysterious.

"I am fine, Dr. Beckett. I thought perhaps I should see how you were coping without your regular duties to perform," she answered with a light smile.

"Oh, I'm all right," he sighed. "I'm not very good at sitting still, but it's given me the chance to catch up on some work."

Nodding, she said, "I understand. Perhaps you would like to break from your work? Dr. McKay is insisting that our team watch a…movie called 'Star Wars'. We would be honored to have you join us."

The offer was sweet and genuine, and a part of him wanted nothing more than to be with them for an hour or two, to distance himself from the infirmary, his mission report, the pill bottle, his regret. There was another part of him though that was tugging him back to his office, the dark, swirling fog in his mind that told him he deserved nothing more than to dwell on his actions back on Hoff.

"That's very sweet of you, Teyla, but I have some things I should work on. Maybe another time, love. Let me know how you like the film."

He gave her a smile and turned to go. He was stopped by her hand on his forearm. She immediately stepped back when he looked at her – he'd already noticed that Teyla was not one for physical contact. "I know what happened has been difficult for you, Doctor, but you should know that there is not one person in this city who blames you for what happened. If you should ever need to talk – "

"Teyla, I'm fine. I just…need some time to myself, I think. It was good of you to stop by, but you go enjoy your movie." Beckett gave her a final nod and practically hurried back into his office, abruptly ending the conversation without another word.

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Beckett blearily opened his eyes, gingerly pushing himself up from his desk. Rolling his neck and wincing at the popping joints and tugging muscles, he glanced at the computer screen. The window containing his half-finished mission report was still waiting patiently for him to continue filling in the pieces of the disaster. He rubbed his cheek, feeling the wavy line of the mouse cord imprinted there. He must have fallen asleep several hours ago, no longer able to fight his exhaustion.

'No pills needed,' he thought sourly, 'just a few days of sleep deprivation.'

Saving his report, Beckett cleared some of the paperwork from his workspace and pushed a folder of blood results into a drawer. He could hear the quiet murmurs of some of the other doctors and nurses in the treatment and exam areas mingling with the gentle whirring of the centrifuge. It was still fairly early, but the city was already starting to reawaken from the silence of the night shift.

Standing up a bit too quickly, Beckett winced at the needle-sharp pain of the headache that had been lurking for days. He dry-swallowed a couple of the aspirin from the bottle on his desk, the bitter taste of melted Tylenol coating the back of his throat. He was tired and still not himself, but there was work to be done.

There was always work to be done.

Retrieving a stack of chemical analyses on the failed vaccine from the printer, he began to rifle through them for any further clues as to why their attempt had failed so miserably – something concrete to look to besides his irresponsibility.

As he studied the diagrams and graphs, he barely noticed the addition of two new voices to the conversations out in the infirmary. When the light knock sounded at his office door, he jumped. "Hey, doc. How's it going?"

Glancing over his shoulder he saw Major Sheppard and Teyla standing in the doorway. Sheppard's hair was damp, and he looked slightly flushed while Teyla seemed as composed as ever.

"Anything I can help you with, Major? You look slightly peaky if you don't mind my saying so," he remarked.

Beckett didn't miss the amused sidelong glance Teyla gave Sheppard nor the major's somewhat defensive response. "No, I'm fine. Teyla and I were just sparring, and I haven't quite mastered all of the basics, so – "

"He has not been practicing like I told him," Teyla interrupted. And if Beckett hadn't known better he would have sworn that she was biting back a grin at the flustered expression Sheppard gave her.

"_But_ that wasn't why we came here. We've been talking…and we're kinda worried about you." As Carson opened his mouth to protest, Sheppard held up his hands. "Look, we don't have to talk about anything that happened, but we thought we should stop by and visit. That's what friends are for."

Before he could get a word in, Teyla jumped in. "And we have not seen you down in the dining commons since what happened on Hoff, so we thought perhaps it would be best if we brought you breakfast." She held up the brown paper bag she was carrying.

He was about to reject the offer out of hand, saying that he wanted nothing more than to be alone, but then he took another look at the pair of them. They looked almost anxious, wearing identical expressions of concern that he knew were entirely genuine.

"I suppose breakfast would be a welcome distraction. You two planning on staying?" he asked.

Sheppard and Teyla glanced at each other with obvious relief. "Well, if it wouldn't be too much of an imposition, doc. I brought along some extra bowls and spoons."

Beckett glanced around the tiny office apologetically, looking for a chair or two that he could offer them. Teyla caught his eye, smiled, and sat cross-legged on the floor where she started pulling out plastic bowls and spoons and a bottle of orange juice. Sheppard flopped down next to her and poured out cups of juice for the three of them, shooting Beckett a grin when the doctor squeezed in, their knees bumping companionably.

"Hope you like Froot Loops, doc. Teyla hasn't tried them yet, and it was the first box I managed to grab when I raided the commissary this morning," Sheppard said, pulling the toucan-emblazoned box from the bag.

Teyla eyed the cereal suspiciously as he started to dole out overflowing bowls of the brightly-colored circles. "Is it supposed to be that color?"

"It's not…natural, if that's what you mean, love," Beckett began.

"Teyla, there are three things above all others that make Earth great – Ferris wheels, popcorn…and pre-sweetened, artificially-colored breakfast cereal," Sheppard explained seriously. "Dammit, I forgot the milk." He pushed a bowl of the dry Froot Loops into her hands and did the same for Beckett.

Both Carson and John watched Teyla hesitantly select a single red Loop from her bowl, holding it between thumb and forefinger and inspecting it thoroughly before nibbling one edge. It apparently passed the test because she ate the rest of it with much less caution.

"What'd I tell you? Pretty good, aren't they?" Sheppard asked her with a smile, popping a few of the colored rings into his mouth.

Teyla helped herself to some more cereal from her bowl. "They are unlike anything that my people usually eat."

"So now you're never going to doubt me again," he remarked confidently.

She eyed him over the rim of her cup. "I would not go that far."

Sheppard grinned, and Beckett couldn't help but chuckle lightly. He watched the two of them fall into easy conversation about cereal, Rodney's temper, holidays, and Earth. He added a few comments here and there, but he was content to just listen to them, and they were considerate enough not to urge him to speak if he didn't want to. The company was enough for him, and for just a short time he felt the knot inside loosen.

Nothing had really changed – his report was still waiting to be finished, he would undoubtedly have to answer at some point for his mistake, and the tragedy would always be with him. It was just that, since their departure from Hoff, he felt that he wasn't alone. He knew he would have to come to terms with what happened on his own, but knowing he wasn't truly alone would be a comfort.

It just might be enough.

Beckett sipped his orange juice and smiled as Sheppard tried to explain to Teyla that the phrase "curiosity killed the cat" actually didn't involve the death of an animal.

With time, it would be enough.


End file.
